01/22/2026
Homesteading is not for the weak.
I love my little farm.
I love my animals.
I love caring for them.
I love knowing they are excited to see me.
I love knowing where our food comes from—and knowing it lived a good life.
But what people don’t talk about is the cost you don’t see.
The chores done on below-zero mornings.
The hours spent researching symptoms and diseases, comparing notes, second-guessing yourself, hoping you catch something before it’s too late.
Spending hundreds of dollars on medication, supplements... or on completely new bedding because the last choice failed your animals.
Sitting with a sick chicken, watching every breath, every posture, every change—trying to decide if this is something you can fix… or if you’re prolonging suffering.
The endless deep cleans.
Treating for mites and lice.
Sanitizing, dusting, isolating, starting over—again and again.
And the part no one warns you about:
having to euthanize animals you love, even after thinking you're doing everything right this time.
Right now, my flock is struggling.
I have birds with water belly—an indication of heart or liver failure. Birds who are underweight despite mash, extra protein, and scrambled eggs. We’ve been fighting chronic respiratory disease that isn’t responding to antibiotics, which means we may be looking at MS, MG, or possibly Marek’s, compounded by secondary infections and parasites.
These aren’t simple problems. These are diseases that experienced keepers lose flocks to.
To someone on the outside, this could look like neglect.
But the truth is—no one taught me how to do this. I wasn't blessed with generational knowledge.. Most homesteaders learn through loss. I made early mistakes: combining flocks without quarantine, no vaccinations, trusting that love and effort would be enough. Now I’m living with the consequences of those lessons.
I’ve spent countless hours, energy, and money trying to save my animals… and the truth is, sometimes you still lose.
I’ve thought about walking away from homesteading altogether.
But I won’t. That’s not who I am.
I want a healthy, thriving homestead for my family—and sometimes that means making devastating decisions in order to do better next time.
Tomorrow, I’ll be culling the birds with water belly to prevent further suffering and sending one in for a necropsy so we can finally get answers. Depending on the results, the road ahead may mean starting completely over. Including the ducks and quail💔
This is the side of homesteading you don’t see in aesthetic photos and highlight reels.
It’s grief. Responsibility. Education paid for in heartbreak.
If you’re learning as you go like I am, please know you’re not alone.
And if you’re watching from the outside—please understand: loving animals deeply sometimes means carrying unimaginable weight for them.
💔🐓
